


Flayed

by fecklessphilanderer



Series: The Arcana Whump [4]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Body Horror, Book XV: The Devil (The Arcana), Crying, Gender-Neutral Apprentice (The Arcana), Hurt/Comfort, Medical Torture, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Touching, Panic Attacks, Restraints, Spoilers for Lucio's route, Stitches, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:21:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24704494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fecklessphilanderer/pseuds/fecklessphilanderer
Summary: "You know the obvious choice before you even say it, you can tell by the panicked look in Lucio’s eyes that he’s figured it out too.If you’re going to make it out of this torture chamber one of you will have to take the fall and it’s going to be you."Lucio and the Apprentice are in a sticky situation and have to make a hard choice to survive.
Relationships: Apprentice/Lucio (The Arcana), Lucio (The Arcana)/Reader
Series: The Arcana Whump [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1675759
Comments: 20
Kudos: 169





	Flayed

**Author's Note:**

> This work is pretty intense, definitely not everyone's cup of tea, please be mindful of the tags. 
> 
> I never write something like this without some kind of aftercare as part of the story so please know there's a soothing/fluffy ending.

You know the obvious choice before you even say it, you can tell by the panicked look in Lucio’s eyes that he’s figured it out too.

If you’re going to make it out of this torture chamber one of you will have to take the fall and it’s going to be you.

It’s simple logic, Lucio is the furthest away from Valdemar. He knows something about this part of the castle, he could get help.

If Valdemar gets their hands and other things into Lucio, there’s no telling if you’d be able to escape or fight Valdemar off.

There is only one choice.

You gather your magic in your fingertips. It’s not hard to pull a message together and shoot it just a few feet away to hit Lucio.

_Wait until they are distracted. Escape. Get help. I can use my magic to hide your escape. Do not try to fight them on your own or we will both die here._

You can see his eyes widen when he listens to your thoughts in his head.

“Wait, y/n—”

“You can have me first Valdemar. Leave Lucio be.”

“So loyal to the coward,” they snap their gloves, “we’ll start with a thorough examination before vivisection.”

“Keep your filthy hands off y/n!” Lucio yells and struggles against his bonds making the examination table under him clatter and groan.

“You’ll do well to listen Lucio! I am so overjoyed to get another chance to teach a lesson. How many wonderful examinations I performed in these halls, thanks to you.”

“I didn’t know what you were doing!” Lucio defends.

“Ah, but you never asked…” they cock their head at Lucio, pausing their long fingers in prepping their tray of tools, “is that not the job of the Count? To pay attention.”

They hum as they clatter through the tools. Lucio gasps and there’s the sound of him rustling in his bonds again before he goes silent.

You stare up as the stony ceiling.

“This isn’t my fault! How could I have known!” Lucio sounds less whiny and more panicked, barely holding himself together.

You give up craning your neck to see what Valdemar is doing to look at Lucio again.

His face is all screwed up and his hair has started to slide up the back of his head. You would laugh at how he looks positively disheveled any other time. He shakes his head back and forth and cranes his neck. His magical arm is straining against the leather restraints of the table to no avail.

A bruising grip jerks your head forwards and down and forcing you to stare upwards.

Valdemar secures another restraint over your forehead before you can even struggle, and you are completely immobilized facing the ceiling.

With large shears they begin clipping through your beautiful outfit that Nadia chose for the masquerade.

The chill of the metal as it slides along your skin makes you shiver and you try to squirm away.

“Ah, ah,” Valdemar pats a cold hand on your cheek, “careful, I wouldn’t want any accidental incisions.”

This is it. You feel your magic, let it pull at you. You know Lucio better than most, studied his incorporeal form intensely when trying to figure out what held him on the plane of the living.

You jerk powerfully against the leather and let out a yelp as Valdemar’s shears cut into your thigh. You let your magic lose in the direction of Lucio to create a copy of him over his skin while at the same time releasing him from his bonds.

Valdemar tuts. Not having noticed you using your magic and peels the last of your clothing away, so you are left in your underwear.

You grit your teeth as their cold gloved hands play with what must be a substantial wound on your leg.

They turn away and pick something else up from the table. This time they hold it up.

A curved needle with a black thread hanging from it.

“I can feel your pulse here,” Valdemar shoves a finger into the wound and you howl, “I assure you it feels quite healthy—if not a little fast.” 

You breathe heavy through your teeth, grunting as they begin to suture up the wound. You wait for Lucio to come flying in but there is only silence.

“Lucio—” you cut off as there’s harsh pulling of your skin back together, then the clip of the shears.

“Not so chatty now,” unable to move you watch Valdemar’s eyes flicker up to where Lucio had been restrained, there’s mirth in their glance, “tongue tied? Don’t worry Lucio you will have your turn.”

With a moment of elation— or possibly the high from the endorphins—you realize that Lucio would be screaming bloody murder by now.

He left.

There’s a scratching sound as Valdemar makes a few notes on a rough and brown stained notepad that they pull from somewhere you cannot see.

Tools clatter as they place it on the table and place their hands back on your body.

_Lucio left._

Dread curls up your spine as they pull the arm closest to them out of it’s restraints and onto a what feels like a flat table. Cool bindings go over your forearm once more.

Instead of cool metal biting into your arm you feel something soft that makes you jerk involuntarily in surprise.

It’s damp, tracing along your forearm and then gone again. You finally see it as Valdemar leans above you.

A paintbrush, and some ink concoction that stings your skin and reeks of disinfectant.

They draw a long line from your sternum down to your stomach before returning to your arm. You jerk again as they press the flat of their palm to the wound on your thigh.

“Don’t worry y/n, I have steady hands.” 

You can barely breathe. How long has Lucio been gone. You can’t even look at him but it makes you wonder whether he even left or if he just decided you weren’t worth it.

“Lucio,” you voice echoes along the high walls even as it sounds small and croaking.

“This will hurt,” Valdemar adds and then without further preamble they cut into your wrist, deep.

Deeper than the wound on your thigh. You let out a low sort of moan, trying to hold back your reaction as tears start to drip down your face.

You can feel the vertical slice all the way to the tip of your middle finger and then in a flurry of cuts Valdemar adds more across your hand.

You squirm without meaning to, but the restraints are unyielding, bruising your skin with your own strength as you struggle up against them.

Then they pause, they lean over to look at your face before scribbling in that notebook some more.

“High pain tolerance,” they seem to say to themselves before they start to do something that makes your hand feel like it’s on fire. Like the skin is being pushed back and then there’s pressure as they start a stream of talk seemingly towards no one describing musculature and reactivity.

It seems to go on forever, steadily working up your arm, cutting in to see your reaction and then peeling back layers of flesh to study the inner workings.

You’re sobbing quietly by the time they reach your shoulder.

“Please, stop.” You gasp out as another incision is made.

“Science does not stop y/n, you are providing me with great research material,” this time when they press apart your skin, they lean more weight onto their hands and you finally let out a scream.

Its vicious they way they move their fingers, unrelenting and deliberate. They pull screams from you until you are covered in sweat and shaking, close to passing out from pain when they finally let up.

“Alright,” they place gloved hands on your waist as if sizing you up, then stain from their earlier painting a clear landing strip for their scalpel.

“Stop,” you can barely hear yourself. You thrash as they hold a much larger knife in your line of vision.

Swiftly, they hit on that same spot in your thigh and you go still to avoid passing out completely as pain tears through you with another yell.

You hear your heartbeat in your ears as they line up the tip of the knife and slowly begin to break skin.

They run the knife gently from sternum to navel. It stings. Your heart feels like it’s going to rip out of your chest, but you don’t make any sound for fear of pushing the knife deeper.

Then they pull back. With each breath you feel your skin pull apart the shallow cut.

The next pass will not be so shallow. You resign yourself to this as they line up the tip of the knife at your sternum.

Then the knife flies out of their hands with a flashbang of light and Valdemar disappears from above you.

You sag in your bonds and your breath comes faster and faster until it feels like your having a heart attack. You can hear yelling, Lucio is yelling, and others, more people than you imagined he would find.

Although for a moment you imagined he found no one and was not coming back.

“y/n? y/n? Can you open your eyes for me?” When you open your eyes there is a face that looks almost familiar but not quite like that of the countess above you.

“My name is Doctor Nazali Satrinava, Nadia is my sister,” They say and place a hand lightly on your cheek. Without any other preamble they release the leather across your forehead, and you crane your neck to look around the room.

Valdemar is gone, Lucio’s double is beginning to fade with a panicked expression melting off it’s face. Somewhere else in the bowels of the castle nearby you can hear yelling. Like a skirmish is still happening just beyond the old doors of the chamber.

Asra’s magic colours the air.

“Deep breaths y/n, your going to be okay.”

Your vision swims a bit as you try to focus your breathing but it’s difficult to think clearly strapped to the table.

The room has gone eerily silent save for your panicked breaths.

“Y/n, I need you to try and keep still,” the Doctor waves their hands and suddenly there’s Asra’s curling white hair in your line of vision and the calming wash of his magic near yours.

“y/n, do you want me to use magic to help you sleep?”

The idea of falling unconscious in the room surrounded by the smell of your own blood is terrifying. 

“Please don’t,” you shake your head with such vigour that it makes you gasp out in agony when the muscles in your shoulder pull.

“Please let me go,” you choke out.

Asra’s brows pull together.

“y/n, we can’t undo this right now, you might hurt your arm worse if you move it. If you’ll allow it, I can suture this up quickly and get the bleeding stopped.”

You trust the Doctor’s face. Asra looks upset.

You nod.

They face Asra, “Go get Julian, he’ll make this much faster.”

Asra disappears with a faint touch to the top of your head.

“This will hurt y/n, but it looks like you should have full motion again if we get this fixed up quickly.”

You can’t help but glance down at your arm.

You let your head fall back to the metal with a thunk, you squeeze your eyes shut and try to breathe slow.

“That looks…bad.” It’s an understatement.

Your arm looks flayed.

“I’ve seen worse,” they shove Valdemar’s tools to the ground and start pulling things out from their satchel. When you see a different but similar needle and thread you start hyperventilating once again.

Another pair of footsteps enter the room.

When you see the mop of shaggy hair and the eyepatch you recognize Doctor Devorak immediately. He leans over you, taking in your injuries before giving a nodding.

“Julian, y/n, y/n, Julian. He’s going to tape up that cut on your abdomen, I don’t think it needs stitches.”

“Yes Doctor,” Julian salutes before reaching into Dr.Satrinava’s bag. He brings out a clear liquid.

“This will sting y/n but it will prevent infection,” you grunt as he drops some on to your abdomen before wiping at the cut. He passes it to Nazali and they do the same to your arm. It stings badly but is bearable compared to your earlier treatment. 

Julian makes quick work of taping up the cut on your abdomen, once finished he moves to your other side where Nazali prepares rolls of gauze and threads two needles.

“Okay y/n, I am going to rearrange your skin, so it lines up correctly before we suture it.”

You nod.

Nazali begins moving all the things the Valdemar displaced, beginning with the shoulder. When they pull on something you cannot help but let out a weak yell.

Neither of the Doctors flinch, Nazali continues to work while Julian rests a comforting hand on your shoulder.

Your panting again when they finish.

Then there’s the sound of doors slamming.

“Y/n!” Lucio voice echoes through the hall and your relieved.

His hair is sticking up five different ways and he looks the way he does after any kind of fight. Elated.

His expression falls as he takes in your injuries.

“This is my fault.” He says.

A laugh bubbles up before you can stop yourself. It kind of hurts to laugh.

“For once, Lucio, this really isn’t your fault.” You take a few deep breaths, “you were perfect.” He looks torn between preening at the praise and arguing with you but is cut off when Nazali speaks.

“Perhaps you can hold y/n’s hand Lucio, were going to get them patched up.”

Lucio unstraps the restraint on your good wrist gently before intertwining his fingers with yours.

Nazali and Julian begin at your wrist, talking you through the process as they carefully and quickly stitch up the violence that Valdemar did to your arm.

It’s taxing. Lucio lets you squeeze his hand hard and wipes your tears away as you cry from the pain. When they finally finish the relief of being done makes you cry harder.

They wipe your arm again with that stinging serum and finally you are released from your bonds.

Lucio helps you up slowly, looking more guilty as dark bruises from underneath the restraints are unveiled.

Julian wraps your arm in soft gauze and ties it off.

Nazali says something but the room feels far away. Lucio says something in return, more serious in his tone than you have ever heard. Then his cape is thrown over your shoulders and you’re being picked up and held close.

The trip to your guest room passes like a dream. All you know is the feeling of Lucio’s metal arm warm with magic at your back, and the softness of his fingertips under your thighs.

You pass by Nadia and Asra, and what must be the rest of Nadia’s family. The castle is now silent, the only leftovers of the previous chaos is destroyed party decorations and spilled drinks.

The bed feels like heaven compared to the cold metal of the table you’d laid on.

Lucio tucks you in gently, brushing his lips over your sweaty forehead.

You fall asleep like that.

**…**

You wake up to midday sunlight. When you sit up you can’t help but groan in pain. Your arm burns and itches under the wrappings and your whole body is stiff and sore.

Lucio’s cape is still across your shoulders.

“y/n.”

You nearly jump out of your skin when you see Lucio. He’s sat in the windowsill cuddled up with the dogs and wearing plain sleep clothes. Shockingly he’s quiet as he gets up and settles on the bed beside you.

He hands you an apple from a small tray of fruit and cheese that must’ve been left by one of the staff.

“What happened to Valdemar?”

His expression darkens.

“Morga is hunting them. They and all the other courtiers escaped except for Volta.”

You nod and bite into the apple. Suddenly ravenous you demolish the fruit and then reach the tray with a grunt to take a few chunks of cheese.

“Would you like to take a bath? Jules gave me some bath salts for your arm.”

“Sure—” you yelp as he hefts you into his arms. He stumbles a little when you make a sound.

“Sorry, did I hurt you!? Should I put you down?” You snuggle into his grip.

“Just took me by surprise.”

With the way your muscles scream with movement you decide you’d rather be carried than save your pride. Besides, it’s nice.

You don’t see anyone as you make your way out of the bedroom and to the baths. Lucio seems to know where he’s going so you don’t say anything.

He sets you down in an opulent bathroom that smells of lavender and a mixture on herbs and soaps.

He goes about fiddling with the bath while you look over yourself in the mirror.

While he sets up the tub you begin unfurling Julian’s wrappings from the night before, already sullied with dried blood.

You throw them into the garbage and admire the neat lines from wrist to shoulder. Your skin looks even and is not swelling much. Although it does take all your willpower not to scratch at the raised bumps of the stitches.

Lucio makes his way back from the tub and pulls out a small pile of things. Gauze, a vial of that clear serum Nazali had used as well as more tape for the wound on your stomach.

“For later.”

You smile at him, and he looks almost sheepish.

“Uh, should I?” He gestures to the door in question and you shake your head. You peel off your underwear.

He turns a bit pink and offers you his hand. He keeps you steady as you step into the steaming water, moaning as the heat seeps into your sore muscles. Whatever is in the bath salts soothes your arm immediately.

Once you’ve settled in the bath you see Lucio seems unsure, standing at the edge of the tub with his arms behind his back.

“Join me?”

He strips quickly, removing his golden arm, and slides into the water across from you.

He’s nervous. Your too tired to pry or wait so you just ask.

“What is it Lucio? You’re being unusually quiet.”

He grimaces.

“I, uh. I wanted to say I’m sorry. If I had been faster to get the others you wouldn’t have gotten this hurt. This is my fault.”

You slowly move through the water so you can face him. Lifting your good arm, you cup his cheek and he leans into your fingers with a sigh.

“Lucio, it’s your fault I’m alive.”

He flinches at that.

“But I could’ve fought them off you. Or I could’ve let them hurt me instead!”

“Lucio, we had to make a hard choice and you stuck to the plan. You got help because we needed it. You did the right thing. I don’t know the castle the way you do. If it had been you in my place… I don’t know if I’d—” he stares at you, looking positively miserable, “I don’t know if I’d have made it back to you in time.”

His hand comes up to rest on your naked waist in the water.

“I’m still sorry,” he says with a small pout.

“I know.”

“Can I wash your hair y/n?”

Instead of answering you turn your back to him and tilt your head.

It’s a little uncoordinated and you end up having to hold the shampoo bottle for him because it slides out of his hand but it’s still a comfort.

After washing your hair he moves to your body, using his palm to massage the tension out of your limbs from being restrained the night before.

By the time he helps you out of the bath you feel weightless and shaky with exhaustion.

Lucio is gentle as he helps you dry off, alleviating any need for you to move your injured arm.

Then you sit on the small bench by the tub and he kneels to carefully rub the stinging serum into your stitches. His fingers nearly tickle your stomach as he re-tapes the already scabbed cut down your abdomen. Then he re-dresses your injured arm snugly, even weaving the gauze through your fingers like a fighter would wear.

He stands and you enjoy the view as he dresses before handing you a soft robe that he’d folded away for you.

He picks you up again, this time with more gusto. Giving a showy spin before carrying you back to your room.

He shoos Melchior and Mercedes off the bed where they were lounging before setting you down. When he goes to pull away you tighten your grip on his shirt.

“What?”

“Stay, lets take a nap.”

He laughs and lets you pull him into bed with you. Settling along your side with a sigh.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if I missed a tag, I hope you enjoyed! I wrote this in one night because I got started and just couldn't stop!
> 
> I am very into continuing this series of whump oneshots. I am a little stumped for inspiration though! Please if you have any suggestions leave them in the comments! I am hoping to write at least one piece for each character so go ham!


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